


Like A Sniper Using Bollocks For Ammunition

by oroc



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Choking, Come Eating, Consentacles, Daddy Issues, Future Fic, King Thor, M/M, Negotiations, Parallel Universes, Tentacles, Wrestling, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oroc/pseuds/oroc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is a useless king, as expected. He meets another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Sniper Using Bollocks For Ammunition

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Tim Minchin's 'Storm'. In context it's more tasteful.

Thor is resolved to hate the visitor before he enters Asgard. They have taken almost their whole family for the journey: the former mate, four of their children and two of their other deities. Thor has the impression that this group does not appreciate the worship their mortals give. Or the concept of work. Or duty. It is as if they are visiting for a holiday, instead of quickly taking time out of what should be a rather busy schedule, if they are committed gods.

Thor resolves further to hate Typhon once he hears the Arimans' background: in their universe, they consumed Olympus, outright ate Zeus and all of his children, their version of Hercules included. 

To make matters worse, Hercules himself does not mind the tale or understand Thor's anger. Typhon is their enemy in this dimension, killing a couple of Olympians in the process of a second war with Zeus and bothering Hercules and Amadeus quite a bit. The Prince of Power (never of Olympus) sees each parallel reality as coincidence. Alternate versions of his admittedly quite nasty father being eaten by dragons do not register as crimes to him. 

Hercules did not mind hearing that Thor is being forced into trade and courtly courtesy with his own murderer. When Thor meets other Fenrises, of course, he is polite, but he has the decency to seethe at Hercules or someone else later. 

Thor is resolute, and Typhon enters through the portal. 

"My lord Thor!"

"My lord Typhon." They kiss on both cheeks, as is their wretched custom, and the Kings retire to the court chamber. 

Typhon looks different from the storm giant Thor knows: his hair and beard are shorter, his face more youthful. No armour or wealthy suits on him. He wears a kilt of black salmon-leather, starting at his hips and ending at his shins, nothing else. He is a mass of compressed muscles, with a belly beginning to form and soften the impression. 

While walking, instead of continuing any of the formalities, Typhon makes a joke in Thor's ear about appearances - dressing for a raven's eye first - and Thor's resolve wavers. They both forget to introduce and greet everyone else, who continue the visit more easily without them.

-

They knock cups on the third try. Thor isn't looking up from his plate.

"Daedelus can explain better than I can, but the oil passes through your portal unchanged. I see that it passes inspection, er. Thor." It's good oil. Possibly olive oil, but there's an odd sheen to it and it doesn't smell quite like it ought to. Thor gets some on a chest clasp spooning it into his mouth with his bread. He's almost not listening to Typhon's prattle. 

The nearly-naked guest is respectful, but unbearably easy, with no manners, and it drains Thor's sense of the rules of these things. 

"Hercules prefers it to Nectar, actually. He tells me you're disturbed about how I came to power."

"You ate my friend," Thor replies steadily. Almost steadily. As steadily as he normally is five hours into talks with other monarchs. Typhon's wine is good too. "You have made a good first impression."

"Should I...?" Typhon waves a hand and leans fractionally closer. Jane always pointed out when Thor did the same, as it meant he was about to talk about himself when he shouldn't. Typhon notices Thor noticing, and smiles like a rewarded pup. "I would hear of your destruction of the human group named after my daughter." Damn Hercules. "In full glory," damn Hercules, "as often as you like."

"Full glory involves much more wine, Typhon. It would be unseemly for kings to make revels instead of negotiate." Thor says it as he imagines Odin might have once.

"To the disgrace of Arima and Asgard!" They knock cups harder. 

"Hear, hear." Thor drains his goblet and fills it again. "Hydra started in North Europe when humans tried to reverse-engineer our Tesseract, as a weapon...."

-

Medusa, Daedelus and Loki work out terms on the opposite wing of the Palace, Loki's orgasm being quite early, as foretold. 

-

Typhon's story of Olympus' conquest had lost the competition, as it had come too early to make any impression. It was awkward, and soberly told, where of course Echidna and Hydra earned most kills and Typhon's main motivation had been Zeus melting him with thunder a millenium or so beforehand. It also did not come with any of the gusto Thor shows with his tales. Typhon did not seem to be especially proud of swallowing gods whole and taking their crowns, which was honestly disappointing, nor to have any kind of thirst for glory.

Oh, but Hydra's defeat...

"Two more did not grow in his place," Thor slurs into Typhon's ear, unsure why the mail of his sleeves are gone - no, he is as covered now as Typhon is, and all ankles are hooked. The hallway was warm. "And we rounded up the Serpent's companions, we rounded up all of Hydra with Heimdall's aid. I charged them by _our law_ , and knocked them into the void to watch them freeze."

"But mortals had nearly conquered the city...." Typhon sounds honestly concerned. "Did their leaders - their other gods not complain that you killed so many? Could they not have attacked, too?"

"The Avengers of that age were displeased. They felt the trials were -- rigged." Thor looks down. "I had been with the team seventy Earth years... Perhaps it was its time."

"Thor," Typhon says, firmly. Twice. His eyes are no longer human. Thor sees the hurricanes in them. "No."

"My father had always warned it would--"

"You told me. Your father was wrong."

"You are visiting Asgard for the first time, Typhon --"

"You had a wife from there whom you loved, you had loved and saved thousands of those Avengers, you are an Avenger and a King." The way Typhon shouts half of his words implies he's not entirely caught up on what sort of message he wants to get across besides that he believes passionately in what he is saying, particularly the prepositions. Thor does not think of this, because Thor is doing the exact same thing, because both of them are quite drunk now. "Hercules said most of them understood, Thor. That they still do."

"We are meeting for the first time," Thor spits, grabbing Typhon's arms and... gripping. Typhon is unthreatened, passionate. 

"Fight me, then, Thor. Odin was wrong. Your power kills me, doesn't it? Humans were worth everything you gave them. You've killed ten thousand wyrms and dragons, haven't you?" Thor normally receives two lashings at the same time from different people. "I'd be no bother. You could murder me, and then you'd be right to wallow in Odin's sarcastic bigotry in your memory, wouldn't you?"

"But...," Thor is worried. Are the talks over? When is Typhon going? "But I quite like your oil."

"Fight me!"

-

Thor wakes bruised and windburned, cradling Typhon, who is mildly burned and has expanded to some of his normal self. The giant's human form is a formality, though the full serpentine Typhon - the one Hercules said had more heads 'than the vase-painters could paint' - is not his most comfortable either. The creature he holds has the same strong figure as before, but blotchy, green, black and brown. Every now and then the curve of a muscle seems to sprout out a black and brown snake, lazing or exploring on its own, and it's difficult to tell where skin starts and scales end. 

It would shock Thor to wake wrapped in so many serpents if he was less hungover. Healing does not take most of the morning, but the two do not speak until several hours from waking. Thor sits on his bed and apologises, curtly, to Typhon, who smiles and raises a jug of their oil over Thor's head.

It is warm, on him, and good. It is warm on Typhon, who has decided to remain scaly and many-headed for the visit. And of course he proves impossible to wrestle. He has as many tails and necks as could cocoon Thor several times, even at this size. Typhon holds Thor's head to his chamber floor, and a boa's head quietly hisses a countdown in his ear.

"I win, my lord."

"Odin was wrong," Thor says, after a shaky breath. Typhon slowly laps at his back with a tongue wider on each fork than most dwarves' tongues at the base - he likes the oil, too - and so do his other heads. Thor continues, as he did lose. "Humans are friends, companions... I was not wrong to wed one." A moment, and Typhon pinches Thor's sac. "Right, yes. I will speak with the present Captain America and apologize for my absence." There isn't an America anymore, but nevermind that. Typhon's tongue runs lower -- Thor turns, and asks, "Are we having sex now?"

"If that's alright?" Thor's twisted upright and his thighs border Typhon's neck. One clamp and he'd probably die. One clamp and Typhon smiles, straining only very slightly. Thor squeezes down as hard as he can, and Typhon moans, not in pain, and his fist squeezes Thor's oiled cock, the first to do so since Jane, and Thor lets go, to be twined in Typhon's many limbs, tails, necks, and choked himself, and let go -- "I owe you a friend, don't I?"

Thor slips along some of Typhon's thick tails to fall over the god-eater's belly. He licks the oil from Typhon's nipple, then when that doesn't really work, begins in earnest to scrape it off with his teeth. Typhon does not sweat, but there is a covering there, a mild salt underneath the fruit-oil. Thor resolves to lick this oil from each of Typhon's two cocks, and tries to grip both in his fist. He fails.

"My good King." Typhon's grin is the most lecherously affectionate Thor has seen from him or anyone. A strong, scaled fist curls around his cheeks, thumb - they're both so absolutely covered in the olive-ish oil that Thor is certain he'll smell of it for the next two years - pushing inside a little. "I will take care of you, now." 

It becomes another sort of competition, each intending to bring the other to orgasm first or better. Thor has less of a chance here. For one, he's tired - more than Typhon. Typhon still has much, much more leverage than him, and a longer tongue, which makes Thor forget he was meant to be doing something.

Until he falls forward - pushed by an errant snake-arm - and becomes slightly more lucid with his nose between Typhon's penises. While his hands were too slippery to wrap around the two at the same time, the Thunder God's mouth is more than equipped. He slips his tongue between them and over them... They are tougher than he is strong, so a bite that would have snipped a cremated beef loin just brings an appreciative groan from Typhon, who returns to fingering him.

Typhon is brought to ejaculation on seeing Thor forced into the same, and he holds Thor's scalp where it is. Thor struggles, still playful, but his throat milks the god choking him with some gratitude, and yes, Typhon is much, much stronger than him. 

Thor tries to say something on coming off, but they shoot a little again, so he sucks again, and gulps, and he is about to say something, but Typhon pulls him right back down onto the twin shafts with a small laugh. Thor begins to feel vulnerable. Full. Satisfied.

"No," Typhon says, when Thor has finally taken a pint of him and opens his mouth again, "Shut up, Thor."

Thor smiles like a rewarded pup.


End file.
